Mentalist Episode Tag: Red Queen, 3x16
by Donnamour1969
Summary: Just a tag to delve more into the characters' thoughts and feelings post episode.  Spoilers galore, episode 3x16; proceed at your own risk.  No copyright infringement intended.


A/N: Wow. I mean, this episode was phenomenal, and I'm still trying to grasp all the ramifications of what happened. If you haven't yet seen this episode, you might want to wait and watch it first, because this tag has major spoilers that would ruin it for you. As much as I want you to read my fic, I want you to enjoy this episode more. That being said…there were so many things about it I loved. The humor with Rigsby and the museum guy at the beginning was hysterical, in an Abbot and Costello kind of way. Great interaction between Rigsby and Cho with the taco cart too, and Jane in the museum. All great stuff. Then, balance that with the heart-pounding scenes between Jane and Hightower, and I was moved to tears when Jane cocked that gun. Wow. Then, of course, the surprise ending that made me very happy, sprinkled with some possible clues/red herrings, and a hint of Jisbon. All of this made for a genius episode. I'll be watching it again for the third time later today, lol.

It was tough coming up with something extra to add on to this masterpiece, but I promised to do something, so here it is. Mainly just a little character study here at the end, a glimpse into what the key characters might have been thinking. I hope you enjoy it.

**Episode Tag: Red Queen, 3x16**

"No one is better off alone," said Madeleine Hightower. She got into Jane's Citroen and he stood a moment in front of J.J. LaRoche's hedge, contemplating her words.

_**I**__ am, _he thought. _Better me than Lisbon possessing knowledge Red John would kill for._

He drove FBI's most wanted criminal to Carmichael in silence. Hightower sat stoically, thinking of the enormity of what Jane had done for her, how she would be in hiding with her children while she trusted Jane to flush out Johnson's real killer. After all of her mistakes, this man did not judge her. This man's keen intuition had been the only thing that had saved her from going to prison, from losing her children along with her career. She didn't know how she would ever be able to repay this debt.

They pulled into an all-night pancake house, where she could see her sister and her two children eating happily inside. The tears gathered in her eyes again but she resolutely wiped them away. It was time to be strong; she'd had plenty of time to weep in LaRoche's trunk all day.

Jane cut the engine and followed her gaze to the window of the restaurant. Hightower could sense his unfounded guilt about this mess. He was probably thinking that he was the one who had brought Red John closer to the CBI, thus causing more death, more destruction—this time, with _her_ life and career. She looked over at him in the dimness of the car, then reached out to touch his hand where it rested on his thigh. Startled, he looked down, then met her eyes warily.

"You aren't to blame for any of this, Patrick-now, or in the past. Red John is. And I still say you should tell Lisbon—"

"No!" His answer this time was even more vehement than before. He looked around self-consciously, then lowered his voice. "I'll not have another life ruined by my actions, or any personal need to bare my soul. I only told you because I needed to see your reaction in order to tell whether or not you were telling the truth."

She squeezed his hand lightly. "Thank God you can read people so well, or I'd be in Federal custody right now."

"Yes, but I doubted my own intuition about you for a few minutes. When Red John is involved I lose…something."

"Your mind?"

His sudden grin shone in the parking lot lights. "Lisbon says I lose my objectivity. I guess that could mean the same thing. My vision narrows to a fine point, and I don't see anything else beyond that. It's lucky you got through to me."

"Lucky I got that damned shotgun away from you and knocked your ass on the floor. That's what got through to you. You were ready to kill me in there, I had no doubt about it."

"Yes," he said simply. "_After_ you took me to Red John, though. I wasn't about to let another witness end up prematurely dead."

She grinned wryly. "Thanks. You're pretty scary with a gun, by the way."

He hesitated, clearly uncomfortable. He could still feel the weight of it in his hand, and it made him shudder a little.

"We have a love-hate relationship, guns and I. I have a feeling one will be the death of me someday."

"Well, that's a dark thought," she said, the momentary humor gone from her eyes.

"What can I tell ya? I have dark thoughts."

He let the topic drop. "You'd better get out of here now," he continued, glancing around, then back to the restaurant. "It won't be long until they expand their search beyond Sacramento, once they discover your children are gone. For your safety, I won't be in touch, so keep your ears open."

"Will do," she said, moving to open the car door. She paused, patting his hand again. "Thank you, Patrick…for everything."

He shrugged and gave a slight grin. "Don't mention it. Really. To _anyone_."

She nodded and got out. He watched her shut the passenger side door, then he rolled down the manual window enough to call to her. She turned around.

"Take care of those children," he said, a note of fear and the slight tremor of desperation in his voice. _Like I couldn't my own child, _were his unspoken next words.

She regarded him a moment in sympathy. "With my life," she said simply. "Good-bye, Patrick."

"Good-bye, Madeleine."

Jane sat in the parking lot of Lisbon's apartment complex. He could see the light still on in her bedroom, so he pulled out his cell phone.

"Jane," she answered. "Where are you?"

He smiled a little at her concern. "I'm home. About to get in bed. You?" He didn't even think about how easily the lies rolled off his tongue.

"Yeah, me too. It's been a long day. You should be resting that head of yours."

"I will. Hey," he began, his own concern seeping into his voice. "Are you okay?"

She sighed one of her familiar, heartfelt, frustrated, Lisbon sighs. He grinned again as the sound carried clearly over the phone. "I don't know. I just can't believe this. I can't believe how much I misjudged her. Makes me doubt everything I've ever learned about reading people."

He hesitated, hating the fact that with just a few words, he could take away her self-doubt, could reassure her that her instincts about Hightower had been correct. But to keep her safe, he must lie.

"Don't feel bad. She fooled everyone, Lisbon. Even me."

She laughed softly. "I suppose that should make me feel better. The great Patrick Jane was actually wrong about something for a change."

"Glad I could be a comfort to you, Teresa," said Jane ironically. So he'd give her this. As much as he hated being wrong, if it made her feel better about herself, pretending his own perception had failed was a worthwhile sacrifice. There was silence on the line a moment, and Lisbon's Spidey senses tingled.

"I still think you're keeping things from me, Jane," she said quietly. "I wish you trusted me enough to tell me what really happened with Hightower."

He felt her words like daggers in his heart. He _did_ trust her. With his life, in fact. But she didn't know that he would protect her life with his, no matter the cost, no matter the chronic prevarication that would come back to bite him in the ass someday. But he wouldn't—_couldn't_ lose her. No one else he cared about would die at Red John's hands, not while he was still breathing.

"I told you what happened, Lisbon. Who knows why a lunatic does what she does?"

She wasn't buying it, but there was nothing he could do about that. Another sigh filled his ear. "Okay, Jane. Whatever. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, Lisbon, wait."

"Yes?" she asked tightly.

"Everything is going to be alright now, you'll see."

"And just how could you possibly know that?" she asked suspiciously.

"I used to by a psychic, remember?" He smiled so she could hear it in his tone.

"Really? Can you read what I'm thinking right now?" There was an edge to her voice, but he knew she had calmed down a little. He hummed and pretended to read her mind.

"Lisbon," he chided with a _tsk_. "Such language…I'm surprised at you."

"You really _are_ a psychic. Good-night, Jane."

"Good-night, Lisbon."

Jane settled back down into his seat, sipping the to-go cup of tea he'd brought. He watched Lisbon's apartment until her lights went out. Then, for a few hours more, just to be safe.

A/N: I know, not my usual bit of fluff, but this episode didn't seem to warrant it. I hoped you liked it enough to review. Thanks for reading!


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